Time passes quickly; a hundred and twenty years in the blink of an eye.

In Youzhou, Luo County, Tianhe County, deep in the folds of the mountains, lies a Miao village of several hundred households.

Green-tiled wooden buildings built against the mountain, a place that ought to be peaceful with the sounds of chickens and dogs, is now shrouded in a layer of deathly silence.

A dozen makeshift tents have been set up at the threshing ground at the village entrance. Under each tent lies a pale-faced man, each with a belly swollen like a woman about to give birth, breathing so faintly as if the next moment it will cease.

The village elder leans on a cane at the side of the tent, eyes clouded with despair.

This strange plague came suddenly, knocking down over a hundred strong men in half a month. The village brewed pot after pot of herbal medicine, to no effect, and some people even started coughing blood.

With a creak, the village gate was pushed open, and two figures came in seeking water.

The tall monk leading the way was dressed in a gray robe, a string of sandalwood prayer beads around his neck, while the monk behind him was slender, with sallow skin, yet exuding a sense of compassion.

As soon as the two entered the village, they were drawn by the pervasive scent of medicine and moans to the threshing ground. Listening to the village elder lament about the disaster, the tall monk clasped his hands together, his voice resonant like a bell:

"Amitabha! We are disciples of the Xiangshan Sect. Since the founding of our sect, we have taken ’saving the dying and healing the injured, delivering all souls’ as our duty, and today encountering this matter, there is no reason for us to stand by and do nothing!"

"Xiangshan Sect!"

Someone in the crowd exclaimed.

The Xiangshan Sect is a local great sect in Youzhou, with centuries of history healing and treating illnesses among the rural areas, known far and wide, many villagers having benefitted from the sect’s favor.

Upon seeing the Immortal Master arrive, the desperate crowd suddenly exploded with vitality, and several elderly women even knelt down on the spot, crying out "Immortal Master, save us."

The slender monk quickly stepped forward to help them up, smiling gently:

"Folks, do not panic, though this plague is fierce, it is no match for the secret techniques of our sect."

Saying that, he procured a stack of yellow talismans from his bosom, the talismans inscribed with twisted runes in vermilion.

The two monks exchanged a glance, chanting simultaneously, and the talismans spontaneously combusted, transforming into golden lights that drifted toward the village’s old well.

As the golden lights entered the well water, the entire well radiated a layer of red light, with fine golden runes floating on the surface.

"Quick, fetch a bucket."

The tall monk shouted, and the villagers hastily brought wooden buckets, drawing full buckets of the reddened talisman water.

Soon, two young men carried over a man with the most severe swelling.

The man lay with eyes closed, lips cracked, on his distended belly faintly visible were wriggling protrusions, a sight that made one’s scalp tingle.

The slender monk brought a bowl of talisman water, dipped a finger in it, and pressed it to the man’s brow, lightly exclaimed:

"Expel!"

As soon as the talisman water entered the man’s abdomen, he convulsed violently, a sound of "ho ho" emanating from his throat, then spewed a mouthful of black blood, within which was wrapped a fingernail-sized insect egg.

The egg, entirely blood-red, covered with fine hairs, even squirmed slightly upon hitting the ground, looking extremely repulsive.

"This is the thing harming us!"

A villager shouted angrily, grabbing an iron shovel nearby, ready to smash it down.

"Don’t!"

The tall monk suddenly reached out to stop him, his expression grave:

"This insect egg is born of the world’s dark aura, forcibly crushing it would cause the malice within to spread instantaneously, then the entire village would suffer an outbreak, even the children won’t escape death!" 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The villagers, frightened, hurriedly retreated, the shovel clanging as it hit the ground.

The slender monk timely spoke, his tone soothing:

"Folks, fear not, our sect has specially crafted magical artifacts that can suppress such evil things."

He took out a blackwood gourd from his sleeve, the gourd’s mouth engraved with countless runes:

"This is the ’Filth Collector Gourd’, by enclosing the insect eggs within, refining them with True Fire for forty-nine days, they can be transformed into pus, eradicating any future problems."

With that, he chanted a spell, a gust of black air spewed from the gourd’s mouth, wrapping the blood-red insect egg inside, a faint layer of blood-red light immediately surfaced on the gourd’s wall.

"Immortal Master’s divine power!"

"Thank you, Immortal Master, for your life-saving grace!"

Thunderous cheers echoed from the threshing ground, the villagers knelt to the ground, kowtowing to the two monks.

The two received the bows kindly, continued to ladle talisman water for the patients to take, every one they cured, they collected the ejected insect eggs within the blackwood gourd.

Soon the gourd became hefty, the blood-light on its surface growing increasingly rich.

...

At sunset, the afterglow dyed the Miao village golden red.

The two monks, surrounded by villagers, walked out of the village, followed by a group bearing eggs and cured meat.

They feigned a few refusals, then transformed into golden lights shooting skyward; just a few miles out, their figures halted abruptly, landing in a concealed ravine.

"Hiss—"

The gray monk robe instantly turned to ashes, revealing the black tight outfits beneath, their previously charitable demeanor evaporated, replaced by dense bloodlust and hostility.

"That damn Sword Alliance! If it weren’t for that Sword Venerable erecting that cursed banner, our Blood Spirit Sect wouldn’t have fallen to such a state!"

"You’re right, brother! We truly came at a bad time!"

"I heard from the old generation in the sect, a hundred years ago, our Blood Spirit Sect was glorious in the Central State!"

"To breed blood cult worms, we didn’t need to hide in such godforsaken little villages; directly target a city, set up an array, and in just three days we could raise a full batch of matured blood worms!"

"Indeed!"

"Who dared to meddle in our affairs back then? Even those so-called righteous sects had to detour at the sight of our Blood God Sect’s Token!"

"Unlike now, we have to disguise ourselves as monks from Xiangshan Sect just to drink a bowl of talisman water, fearing being watched by the Sword Alliance’s spies!"

The thin Cultivator took a deep breath, suppressing the restlessness in his heart:

"Junior Brother, do not be hasty. As the saying goes, the Dao rises an inch, the Demon a foot. The Heavenly Dao turns like a wheel."

"No matter how strong that Sword Venerable is, a day will come when he ascends. Once he’s gone, the Sword Alliance, leaderless, will allow our Blood God Sect to revive, reclaiming past glory!"

"Alas, it has been seventy years, who knows how much longer we have to wait!"

Hearing this, the thin Cultivator also fell silent. A hundred years ago was the true pinnacle of their Demon Dao.

Thirteen evil sects ruled half of Zhongzhou, with the Blood God Sect being one of the top three Demon Sects among them.

In those days, common righteous Cultivators were nothing more than lambs awaiting slaughter, and when Demon Dao Venerables went on a sortie, rivers of blood flowed, and sects were annihilated.

But all this changed after Duobao Daoist cultivated the Shadow God and began roaming Zhongzhou, initiating a cycle to vanquish demons.

"Do you remember the encirclement a hundred years ago?"

"The Thirteen Paths of the Saint Sect gathered seventeen Venerables, with our Blood God Sect’s old leader personally leading the team. They set up the ’Blood Sea Slaughter Immortal Array’ at the foot of Jiuxiao Peak, intending to completely annihilate that Zhang and eliminate future troubles."

The tall Cultivator nodded, his face full of fear and awe:

"Of course I remember! According to the sect records, that battle darkened the skies, with the Blood Sea Slaughter Immortal Array summoning a blood cloud across thousands of miles."

"Seventeen Saint Dao Venerables attacked simultaneously, deploying divine techniques and magical treasures, even shattering half of Jiuxiao Peak’s mountain range!"

"And what was the result? That Zhang stood alone in the array, his white robe untouched by dust, and with just one Immortal Sword, he slew all seventeen Venerables!"

"The old leader’s lifebound blood gu was shattered by his single sword strike, and even the Divine Soul didn’t have time to escape. Since then, the God Sect has fallen completely."

The thin Cultivator sighed lightly:

"Seventy years ago, he invited all Venerables to discuss the Dao atop Xuankong Mountain, defeating every Venerable and earning the title ’Sword Venerable’ resoundingly throughout the world."

"He subsequently founded the Sword Alliance, and all factions responded in unison, making our days even harder."

"Our Blood God Sect’s main altar was razed by Sword Alliance disciples, and the Scripture Pavilion was set ablaze."

"Disciples of the sect died or fled, leaving only the remnants like us to eke out an existence in such a bitterly cold place as Youzhou."

The yin wind blew again, making the two figures in the mountain hollow appear particularly lonely.

"Enough of this, let’s first bring those blood gu mother eggs back. Once enough blood gu are raised, we can find an opportunity for revenge."

"One day, we will let the Sword Alliance know that the Blood God Sect is not to be trifled with!"

The thin Cultivator nodded, and the two transformed into black wisps, flying toward the most remote Black Wind Ridge in Youzhou, their images hidden in the night.

They failed to notice a faint golden light quietly dispersing in the direction they were leaving.

...

Black Wind Ridge, perpetually shrouded in miasma, its rocks all inky black, is a place even common Cultivators dare not approach. Yet it is the hidden stronghold of the Blood God Sect’s remnants.

The tall Cultivator swiftly formed seals with his hands, chanting an obscure spell, and from his fingertips, two blood lines shot onto the mountain wall.

Only a light "buzz" was heard, and a layer of blood-colored light illuminated the mountain wall, filled with distorted ghostly face patterns. The two bowed their bodies forward, their figures instantly merging into the light curtain.

Beyond the light curtain was another world, an expansive cave with glowing blood-colored crystal stones embedded in the walls, drenching the cave in a crimson hue.

At the depths of the cave, a figure in a blood-colored Daoist robe sat on a stone chair.

"Greetings, Master!"

The two black-robed Cultivators stepped forward quickly, kneeling respectfully on the ground, raising the black wooden gourds high above their heads.

The Master slowly nodded, a withered finger hooking, and the two gourds transformed into two streams of light, flying into his hand.

He weighed the gourds, his gaze sweeping over the two, revealing a satisfied expression: "This time, you didn’t return empty-handed, not bad!"

...

At the deepest part of the cave, a blood-colored altar a yard high stood prominently.

The altar was carved from a single block of Blood Jade, engraved with densely packed runes, with viscous blood energy flowing between them.

Around the altar lay thousands of identical black wooden gourds.

Venerable Youming sat atop a skull throne at the altar’s peak, gazing at the altar, frowning with displeasure evident in his eyes.

Since cultivating the Shadow God, resources had become scarce for him. He sighed lightly: "So be it, less is less, safety first!"

He flicked a finger, a ray of blood light shot into the altar, causing the runes on it to glow, drawing all the blood energy emitted by the gourds into a torrent that flowed into his mouth.

Venerable Youming closed his eyes to adjust his breath, his gaunt cheeks gradually turning rosy as the aura of Shadow God around him steadily recovered.

But at this moment, he suddenly opened his eyes, his blood-red brows furrowing, his eyes filled with fierce intent:

"Sword Alliance brats again!"

In his perception, a condensed Nascent Soul level Sword Qi was forcefully impacting the stronghold’s restriction from the outside, evidently a Sword Alliance Cultivator had traced them here.

Venerable Youming’s heart sank:

"We can’t stay here. Before leaving, slaying a Nascent Soul would at least earn some interest."

He reached into his chest and pulled out a pitch-black Banner, which unfolded to reveal thousands of ferocious Asura phantoms embroidered on it. It was his lifebound magical treasure, the "Great Asura Blood God Banner."

Without a word further, he transformed into a blood light and charged straight towards the breach in the restriction.